


Northern Ravens

by fanetjuh



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-03-09 18:32:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18922687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanetjuh/pseuds/fanetjuh
Summary: Sansa is Queen in the North while Jon is banished to serve the Night's Watch for the rest of his life. And yet, Sansa can't just accept that Jon can never come home again, that he will never be able to answer the feelings she has for him, that she will have to marry someone else to let him father the future heirs of the North. And so she sends ravens. Ravens to Jon to tell him how much she misses him. And ravens to Bran to ask him when it is safe to end Jon's punishment and bring him back to Winterfell.





	1. Prologue

One had to be blind to not see it.

Ravens. Countless of ravens. Flying from Winterfell to beyond the wall and back. 

No one had dared to shoot one of them to read the messages they were carrying, but there were countless of whispers going around.

Not once had their queen, Sansa Stark, been seen in the company of a handsome man and not because none had tried to win her hand. Countless of suitors had thrown themselves at her feet, but none of them had ever gotten a second glance from the Red Wolf. 

Some excused her lack of interest in male company by referring to her tragic past. They told horrible tales about her engagement to Joffrey and her forced marriages with Tyrion and Ramsay. 

But most of them were quite certain that the queen wasn’t afraid to marry again. And they didn’t doubt she was more than willing to give the kingdom the heir they were longing for. But they believed she had already decided who her husband would be. They believed she had already decided who would father the Stark children, the future of Winterfell and the North.

No one ever spoke about it out loud. Not in the brothels. Not in the empty halls of Winterfell. Not in the taverns and not on the roads to the other six kingdoms. It was a silent vow, the repayment Sansa received from the Northerners for everything she had done for them.

Time would pass.

People would forget.

And people would forgive.

And until then ravens would fly from Winterfell to beyond the wall and back.


	2. Chapter 1

For years she had heard that council meetings were boring and a waste of time. She had accompanied rulers who had longed to escape from them, who attended as few of them as possible and who preferred leaving all the boring decisions to the other council members.

But Sansa actually enjoyed those meetings. She liked knowing what was going on in her kingdom and what the people worried about. She made sure to listen carefully to every plea and story and to every prompted solution. She wanted to understand the true question, the true issue and she wanted to be certain that the remedy wouldn’t cause any other unwanted problems no one had thought about.

“Are there any other matters we should discuss?” She straightened her back and let her eyes wander over the representatives of the different houses of the North. Even though she didn’t need to wear a crown to be respected and taken seriously, she felt the by now familiar weight of the dire wolf pressing on her red hair.

Her crown represented her father, who died for the kingdom and his children. Her crown represented Rickon, the brother who had been nothing but bait to lure an entire army into a carefully crafted trap. Her crown represented Robb and her mother, who had paid the ultimate price for an independent North and for loving the wrong person. And her crown represented Arya and Bran and most of all Jon, the remaining Starks who were now spread across the world. She liked keeping it close. If she wore it, it felt as if all those family members she loved so much were near her, were with her, no matter how far away they were in reality.

A young boy, actually way too young to be a council member, shook his head. “This was all for today.”

Sansa smiled at him and pushed herself up from her chair. And even though she had witnessed her council members standing up and bending their heads countless of times already, she had not grown completely used to it yet. She doubted if she would ever grown used to it. “I will speak to you all tomorrow then. If something urgent happens in the mean time, feel always free to disturb me.” She walked past them and left the room.

As soon as she was all alone in the hallway though she started to walk faster and faster to climb the stairs leading towards the chamber of her new Maester.

“My Queen.” The Maester didn’t seem surprised when Sansa stormed into his room. Instead he wore an amused smile on his face. “What can I help you with today?”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Have any ravens arrived today, Maester?” She took a few deep breaths to steady her breathing and she let her hands rest on the wooden desk. Countless of papers laid spread out on it and yet she didn’t see the familiar handwriting she was looking for.

It had been only four days since she had gotten his last letter. Her answer most likely hadn’t even reached him yet in the high north beyond the wall. But still she hoped that maybe he had not waited for her answer to send her a new letter, a new sign that everything was still fine, that he was still safe there and that he was missing her just as much as she was missing him.

“There was a raven today, my Queen.” The Maester spoke annoyingly slowly, but Sansa tried to keep her frustration in check. “Not from the high north though.” He left an agonising long pause. “The raven came from King’s Landing.” He eventually handed her the folded scroll carrying the signet of King Bran the broken. “I didn’t get the chance to open it yet.”

She smiled politely and pressed the letter to her chest. “I don’t think my brother will write me anything harmful.”

Although he would probably not write her the one thing she actually wanted to hear the most either. He kept on telling her that it was too early, that it was too soon, that there were still too many Unsullied and Dothraki lingering around King’s Landing with no idea where to go. He kept on repeating that although he technically couldn’t force her to apply the judgement passed by his kingdom, he did advice her to just wait a little longer, until it was truly safe, until she could be certain she wouldn’t start a new war no one actually wanted to fight.

Her fingers trembled slightly however when she unfolded the paper and let her eyes take in the words.

_Dear Queen in the North,_

_I will let you know when the time is right. There’s no need to take unneeded risks by sending me more ravens with the same question. Life has kept you waiting for your happy end for a long time. I promise it’s not long now anymore. I would however like to ask you a favour. Could you personally travel north for me to see if Jon Snow is still where his punishment demands him to be?_

_Bran the Broken, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Six Kingdoms, Protector of the realm_

A broad smile spread across Sansa’s face when she handed the letter to her Maester. She shifted her weight constantly while he let his eyes wander over the sentences and she could barely contain the adrenaline rushing through her veins.

“He wants you to visit Jon?” The Maester raised his eyebrows. “Doesn’t a Queen have more important matters to take care of?”

She probably did, but the North was officially independent for more than sixteen months now. “I am sure that the council will understand that once in a while we have to follow the instructions of the King of the Andals.” She looked at him and waited for more protests to roll off his tongue. “I will ask Jon to return to the wall so I won’t be away for too long.” She bit her lip. “And if the kingdom needs me in the mean time, they can always send me a raven and I will return as soon as I can.”

The Maester simply smiled at her and nodded. “As you wish, my Queen.”


	3. Chapter 2

With her back straight and her chin up Sansa walked through the castle of Winterfell once more before she would accompany the small caravan to the wall. She greeted each and every servant she passed and a part of her felt guilty that she was already leaving them without a Queen and a Stark so soon after her coronation.

The war against the Night King and his army had been won and thanks to Bran and his council the rest of Westeros seemed to be at ease at the moment too, but no one could so easily forget all the horrors they had been through. There was no one in the North left alive who had not lost someone during everything that had happened after King Robert Baratheon had arrived here at Winterfell. The Lannister Army, the Iron fleet, the Boltons, the Army of the Death, they had all taken lives of people who had been fighting for the North and the Kings they believed in. Eventually it had brought them the Northern independency, but the price they had paid was high and the scars and empty places at the dinner table would be felt for quite a long time.

It would have been so much easier if she could have invited Jon to come back home, to take back his rightful place as the King in the North, but the last thing she wanted was risking another war and another fight. She didn’t doubt they would eventually win, especially now the Unsullied and Dothraki had lost the one person who had ruled and commanded them. But it would still lead to more scars and more empty places at the dinner table. And she wanted the people to know that despite everything she felt and needed herself, their safety and wellbeing would always be her priority.

Once she had encouraged everyone that the North was in good hands in her absence and that she wouldn’t be gone for too long, she crossed the courtyard and entered the crypt.

As a kid she had never quite liked this place, where the death felt too near and the air felt too musty. And all the horrors she had witnessed when the Night King had raised the death from their tombs were sometimes still haunting her in the middle of the night. But this was also the place where she could be the closest to her parents and the siblings she had lost.

It had been one of the first things she had done after she had been crowned Queen.

All the statues that had been heavily damaged during the battle, among which the ones of her father and her aunt Lyanna, had been restored to their former glory. Her little brother Rickon, who had only been buried here but had never gotten a statue of his own, was now smiling at her whenever she entered. And even her mother and brother, although their remeins were gone and lost forever, had gotten the honour they deserved after everything they had been through and had done for the North. And even though this meant some traditional rules were at the very least stretched, no one had complained or protested when she had given the order.

“I’m here to say that I will not visit during the upcoming two months, mother.” Sansa bent her hand when she halted in front of Catelyn’s statue. “I will be visiting Jon.” She softened her voice when she said his name out loud.

The journey from Winterfell to Castle Black would most likely take about three weeks and she would also need three weeks to get back. Her time with Jon was limited to one or maybe two weeks if they were lucky. But it would have to be enough for a while. It would have to be enough until Bran knew for sure that pardoning Jon wouldn’t enrage what was left of Daenerys’ army anymore.

“I wish you had known that he was not a bastard and that father has never betrayed you.” Sansa stretched out her hand and the tips of her fingers touched the rough stone. “Maybe you would have been able to love him, just like I do.” Sansa smiled. “He is everything I always wanted my husband to be. He is everything I hoped Joffrey was before I discovered Joffrey was not the prince but one of the monsters in my story.” Sansa stepped back again and folded her hands in front of her. “I will tell you everything about how he is doing up North once I return.”

And even though the statues only came to life in her nightmares, it felt like the statue of her brother was smiling at her when she said that.

It had taken some time to find someone who had known and remembered what Robb had looked like in the days before he died. In her mind he had still been a boy, but this statue was the statue of a man. It was the statue of a King. The dire wolf guarding him reached his waist. They had wanted to make the wolf smaller, but Sansa hadn’t let them.

“One day I will bring him back home so he can visit you and see the handsome young man you had become.” Sansa placed a hand on her brother’s stone cold shoulder. “And you will be quite surprised how handsome he has become too.” She felt her cheeks heating up and she bent her head slightly while she dropped her arm again. “Take good care of Winterfell in my absence, big brother.”

The bright light of the sun almost blinded her when Sansa left the crypt again. “Is everything ready for our departure?” She blinked the tears in her eyes away and nodded at one of the stable boys saddling the horses.

“Almost, my queen.” He avoided her glance and tightened one of the straps a little more. “They are packing the last bit of food and water so you won’t need to stock up. It will maybe shorten the trip with a few days.”

Sansa smiled and she reached for his hand. “Thank you.”

“Everything to make you happy, my queen.”

And even though there were a million worries plaguing her mind, especially now she was truly leaving Winterfell without its Queen and a Stark for two months, she was happy that at least she could now count the days until she would see and hold Jon again.


	4. Chapter 3

During the days and nights that followed Sansa had to remind herself constantly that Jon would be waiting for her at the end of this journey. The landscape between Winterfell and Castle Black was monotonous and never changing and after a few weeks there were not that many topics left she could discuss with the knights and servants accompanying her.

Once upon a time she had read in a book that journeys never were about the destination, but about the road and the way towards the destination. She could imagine that was true for certain journeys and especially for life, but it surely wasn’t true for traveling from point A to B and especially not when point A was her childhood home and the castle she was now ruling and point B was the place where she would meet the man she loved again for the first time in a very long while.

“My Queen?” One of her loyal knights cleared his throat when he made his horse fall into step with hers. “Due to the excellent weather circumstances we will reach Castle Black tonight. If everything today goes according to plan, of course.” He bent his head slightly and his blond curls, now covering half of his eyes, danced in the blowing wind.

Sansa’s lips curled up into a broad smile. “Thank you so much for notifying me, Fredrik.”

She had travelled these roads once before, years ago. The air had been much colder at the time and falling snow had slowed them down tremendously, but just like now Sansa had kept herself going by thinking of Jon, of once more feeling his strong arms embracing her, of knowing that maybe together they could take everything back that was stolen from them, from the Starks.

Now there was only one more thing they should right.

They had taken their home back. They had protected it against each and every threat, against both ice and fire. Maybe, after everything they had been through, everything they had endured, all those times they had suffered, the Gods had finally been on their side.

But Jon still wasn’t home and without him there it would always feel as if a small piece of the puzzle was missing, as if the happily ever after they had worked for hadn’t arrived yet, as if they had not yet reached the end of their long and tiring journey.

It was another journey that had never been about the journey itself for Sansa. The journey had been painful, filled with moments she could have lived and done without, filled with misery and heartbreak. It was because of the journey that she had quickly grown into the woman she was nowadays, but she liked to believe that she would have become the Queen she deserved to be anyway, even if it would have taken her a little longer.

Sansa straightened her back and lifted her chin however. She was surrounded by guards and people who looked up at her, who had wanted her to be their Queen, who didn’t mind that she was a woman. All those people had suffered in their own way, but here they were, stronger than they had ever been and finally independent.

“Queen Sansa…” Fredrik cleared his throat and he tightened his grip on the reins of his horse. His knuckles paled. “I hope that you won’t mind the question, but we were wondering…” He hesitated for a moment and Sansa was bracing herself for whatever question or request would follow. “Do we still need to address King Jon as our King?”

The question surprised her and in a way it overwhelmed her too.

Technically Jon was no King in the North anymore. He had laid down his title when he had kneeled for Daenerys to get her help in the long night. He had never claimed it back and maybe deep down he had not even wanted it back. He was good at ruling, but it didn’t seem to be something that actually made him happy.

“I will discuss that matter with him.” Sansa licked her dry lips. “I assume there won’t be any spies or prying eyes around, but I would suggest that it might be better to not call him King.”

It was a lesson she had learned the hard way. There could always be someone listening to every word you said, waiting to report it to whomever could use the information. And even though the war was over and Westeros was relatively at peace, there were quite certainly still people with bad intentions. There would always be people with bad intentions.

Fredrik nodded. “You are right, my Queen.” He bent his head slightly. “How should we address him then?”

Once Jon had been Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. But Sansa wasn’t sure if calling Jon Lord Snow would still be appropriate. Most of the time he was not even with the actual Night’s Watch. He much preferred spending his days even much further North, with the Wildlings he had won over and who had embraced him as one of their own.

“It will be the first thing I will ask him.” Sansa nodded once more at her companion and then she saw the contours of the castle appearing on the horizon. Instinctively she planted her heels in the flanks of her horse to make him go faster and within a few seconds she had broken free from the caravan.

The castle in the distance grew bigger and bigger, just like the smile on Sansa’s face while she rushed through the gate and jumped down on the still frozen floor.

A familiar face appeared on top of the wooden stairs. His black curls had grown longer and wilder, but it had only made him look more handsome. As soon as his eyes found hers the smile on his face brightened and the frown on his forehead faded. He rushed down the stairs and less than a second later Sansa felt his strong arms around her, lifting her feet up from the ground.

“I’ve missed you…” She whispered and she buried her nose in his hair while she wrapped her arms around his neck. He smelled like wood and snow and pine and yet it was the smell of home and safety and forever. “My King.”

“I missed you too.” Jon gently placed her down again and he pressed the palms of his hands to her warm cheeks. “My Queen.” He leaned in and they both closed their eyes when their lips, after all this time and all those letters, finally met.


	5. Chapter 4

Even though her lips were red and swollen from kissing and even though she was out of breath because she couldn’t bring herself to separate her mouth from his long enough to breath, Sansa still longed to be much closer to Jon that she currently was. He had his arms firmly wrapped around her and yet she hated the thick layers of clothing they were wearing to protect themselves against the piercing cold. For too long she had had to miss his touch and the heat of his body keeping her warm. Now she was finally here, staying here in the cold with all those eyes watching them and all those clothes on seemed like a waste of what little time they had together.

But she was a Queen now and all those people staring at them were her people. And no matter how much she wanted to lock herself up with him in his bedroom to not come out again until they had to leave again, she knew she couldn’t do so.

He was her lover, the man she wanted to marry, the future father of her children and the King she wanted to rule besides her. But he was also the man who had gathered the biggest army ever seen, who had made it possible to defeat the Night King and who had saved the North of what could have been a bloodbath by killing the Dragon Queen before she could unleash her dragon on the very place she had helped to protect.

“I wish we could take you home with us…” Sansa exhaled. Her warm breath was visible in the cold winter air. “But Bran told me it was too early, too soon.” She let her head rest on his broad shoulder. She doubted if he was still fighting or practicing with his sword and yet she couldn’t imagine anyone else she’d feel this safe and at home with. “I’m glad he gave me an excuse to come here and visit you, though…”

Jon’s hand went through her hair and he twirled a loose strand around the tip of his finger. “I’m not sure if I’m glad he made you do that.” He whispered and his lips were almost touching her ear. “Because now I’ve got to let you go again. And I don’t know if I can do that.”

Sansa closed her eyes. She knew that Jon was right. In a few weeks she would have to get on her horse again and that horse would carry her back to Winterfell. And neither of them knew when they would see each other again. But she didn’t want to ruin this moment of happiness, of finally being with him again and being able to talk to him again without having to wait days for an answer. “You shouldn’t talk about that yet. We have a few more weeks before I have to leave again, maybe by then you will be tired of me and get headaches because I’m talking too much.”

Jon smiled and his lips kissed her forehead. “I’ll never grow tired of you.” He pressed the palms of his hands to her glowing cheeks before he kissed her slightly parted lips again. “And you can talk as much as you like. I missed hearing your ramblings and I missed your voice of reason.”

Sansa’s lips curled up, but the magical moment was disturbed when one of her guards cleared his throat.

“My apologies, your majesties.” His voice trembled slightly. “It’s getting dark soon. We need to unsaddle the horses and get them comfortable for the night.”

Sansa looked at Jon, but Jon kept silent. She was the Queen now, she was the ruler of the North now and just like everyone else Jon now waited for her commands. “Jon…” She remembered that she had promised to ask him how her men should address him. “Could you send a few men to help the Northerners to settle?”

“Of course, my Queen.” Jon nodded and stepped back from her to talk to a few of his friends, who kept a polite distance ever since Sansa had rushed through the gate. He maybe was no longer a King and he maybe didn’t even want to be one anymore, but he still moved and behaved like one. Not like the one who would just order people around to do whatever he wanted them to do. He still was the kind of King people wanted to fight for and fight with. He still was the kind of King people believed in and trusted with their lives.

A few seconds later his men walked towards the gathered Northern caravan and lead them away to the stables so the horses could finally get some well deserved rest.

“You can banish a King from his Kingdom, but he’ll always be a King…” Sansa only realised that she had said the words out loud when Jon let his forehead rest on hers.

“I’m not a King anymore, Sansa.” Jon spoke softly. “And I don’t need to be one. The North has a Queen, a wonderful Queen.” He smiled. “She’s intelligent and just. She’s soft and strong. She’s beautiful and brave.” He paused for a moment and his eyes stared straight into hers. “And she most of all doesn’t need a King.”

“I do need a King.” Sansa closed her eyes. She was intelligent and just and soft and strong and beautiful and brave. But she was also just a girl who longed to be loved and cared for. “I do need you.”

“But not as your King.” Jon’s nose brushed hers. “Even when Bran says it’s okay for me to come home…” He swallowed. “I still don’t wanna be King again.” His lips touched hers carefully. “I want to be your husband. I want to be the father of your children. I want to help you raise the future Kings and Queens in the North.” He shook his head. “But I really don’t want to be King anymore.”

“I was already designing a beautiful crown for you.” Sansa placed her hands on his shoulders. “One to match my tiara.”

“You shouldn’t be making me a crown. You should make one for you. A real crown for a true Queen, for the rightful ruler of the most beautiful Kingdom of Westeros.”

The smile on Sansa’s face brightened and then she kissed him once more. “If only all Kings, Princes and Lords I encountered had been like you. The world would have been a much better place.”


	6. Chapter 5

The served dinner in Castle Black looked far better than the food Sansa had gotten during their journey from Winterfell to the North. The smell of fresh meat filled her nostrils and even though they were not presented on the table yet Sansa could also already smell the lemon cakes Jon had without a doubt made for her.

And yet, instead of actually eating the food, Sansa played with it and shoved it back and forth on her plate. There were too many butterflies in her stomach to actually be hungry and the fact that she was seated a few too many inches away from Jon made her entire body restless. Having dinner and attempting to converse with her own people or the ones who spent their days with Jon in the cold North beyond the wall felt like wasting time.

But she kept a smile on her face and nodded whenever she thought she had to, even though she didn’t hear anything of what was said to her.

“Did you already ask him?” Fredrik shifted in the seat next to her. He still wore the Stark uniform and his plate was already half empty.

Sansa blinked a few times and then she shook her head. “I didn’t get the chance yet.” Her cheeks heated up and she saw the smile spreading across Fredrik’s face.

At times the boy reminded her of Theon and she was not sure yet if that made her happy or sad. He had the same blond curls, even though he kept them short most of the time. And just like Theon he carried a certain bravado that could come across as arrogance, but was also in a way rather charming.

“Of course, my Queen, you had more important matters to discuss.” He winked and Sansa couldn’t help but smiling back at him.

She moved her chair a little closer towards Jon and then she cleared her throat. “The men ask how they should call you now you’re no longer a King or a Lord.” She bent her head and stared at her plate. Jon had probably noticed by now that she was barely eating, but when she looked at his plate she noticed that his appetite didn’t seem like it used to be either.

Jon shrugged and he easily accepted the excuse to put his spoon down. “They can just call me Jon or Snow or whatever they like best.”

Sansa furrowed her eyebrows and she leaned back in her wooden chair. She was just as much a Queen here as she was in Winterfell and even the men of the Night’s Watch, known to be thieves and outcasts, seemed to respect everything she had accomplished and the fact that she had managed to keep Jon alive after he had killed the Dragon Queen. “You know they will never do that.”

He might have accepted that he was no longer a King or a Lord or a Knight, but his people, her people, their people had not. He had been the one commanding their army against the Night King. He had been the one leading their troops south to kill Cersei Lannister. He had also been the one ending the tyranny of Daenerys Targaryen, even though he was surrounded by those loyal to her, including her dragon. No matter how much he wanted it, not even when he ordered them to, would they see and treat him as their equal.

Westeros might have stripped him of all titles, but not even Westeros could erase everything he had done for the Kingdom and especially the North.

“I’m not allowed to carry a title.”

“Yet.” Sansa hissed between her teeth. “It’s a matter of time before Bran tells us that Daenerys’ allies have left Westeros or have stopped caring.” She lifted her chin a little and straightened her back. “Apart from that, the North is an independent Kingdom and the laws of the Six Kingdoms and their punishments can be overruled by its Queen.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to risk another war, even though I don’t doubt we will win it, but the Northerners and I can give you every title and all honour you deserve.”

Jon smiled, but he shook his head and reached for her hand. “Sansa…” He spoke softly. “I know that Tyrion presented it as a punishment. That’s what Grey Worm had to believe, else he wouldn’t have let me go alive.” The tips of his fingers, slightly rough after spending so much time in the burning cold, rubbed her knuckles. “But the only part of the punishment that really is one, is the part that keeps me away from you.” Every word was sincere. “I never wanted to rule people or command armies. I’m fine being a bastard, banished, but free.”

“You’re not a bastard, Jon.” Sansa shook her head. “You’ve never been and you’ll never be.”

“We’ve talked about this.” Jon leaned a little closer towards her, even though that was barely possible. “I don’t want any of it. I just want a calm life, Ghost somewhere near and you.” He lifted his hand up and touched her cheek.

She hadn’t realised that a few tears had escaped her watering eyes. “Will you even come back home if Bran tells us that you can return without risking countless of lives?” After all, that was the future she had been holding onto, the promise that had kept her going. She could rule the North and be their Queen, as long as she knew that one day Jon would come home again to be with her.

He was the only one she would ever allow to father her children, the heirs the North so desperately needed now Bran was ruling the Six Kingdoms and Jon and Arya were so far way from Winterfell.

But she didn’t want to travel all the way here for the rest of her life to see him. And she didn’t want to say goodbye after only a few weeks every time he would travel south. She couldn’t do that. She didn’t want that. That was not the happily ever after she was promised after everything she had been through and everything she had fought for.

“I already told you, Sansa.” Jon squeezed her hand assuringly. “I will be your husband one day and the father of your children and I will help you raise those children to become King or Queen themselves one day.” He let her hand go. “But as just Jon. In your shadow.”


	7. Chapter 6

When Sansa looked over her shoulder she saw the footprints she and Jon left behind in the layer of freshly fallen snow.

Around Winterfell the snow had melted and the castle was now surrounded by green trees and blossoming flowers, but here at the wall even the summer sun couldn’t chase the cold away completely. It was as if Winter had never truly left here.

And somehow Sansa knew this was exactly why Jon felt more at home here than at Winterfell or let alone even further south.

Some people whispered that the only reason Sansa had distrusted Daenerys had been her love for Jon, that she had simply been jealous and had wanted the former commander of the Night’s Watch and the former King in the North for herself. She had never denied those claims. Not because they were the entire truth, but because they were at least part of the truth. She had not so much wanted the King in the North for herself, but she had known that somewhen, if Jon would have stayed with Daenerys in King’s Landing or in Dragonstone, he would have withered away.

Jon hadn’t belonged in the south. He hadn’t been made to endure the heat of Dragonstone or the thrumming life of King’s Landing. He wouldn’t have been happy there. He wouldn’t have stayed happy there. He would have lost a piece of himself every day.

And Daenerys not seeing that and not realising that was only one of the many signs of her ultimately only caring about herself, her view on the world, her vision of the future, her idea of good and bad. Daenerys might have been certain that she was doing all of this to make the world a better place, but her better was just as twisted as the better of so many tyrants before her.

But here Jon was glowing and beaming. He looked better than she had seen him in years and even the eternal frown on his forehead seemed less deep and less prominent. There was a little spark in his brown eyes that had never been there before and when she walked next to him she felt like Jon was showing her his home, talking about the several towers and everything that was stored there or what it was used for.

A smile spread across Sansa’s face and she realised that when Jon promised her to return to Winterfell one day, he did that because he truly loved her and considered her happiness so much more important than his own.

“Jon?” She cocked her head and stood still. A shiver rolled down her spine, but she tried not to show how cold she truly was. “Do you think they would accept the North making castle Black one of its official residences?”

Jon furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. “Why would the North do that?”

To make the King who doesn’t want to be King happy. To give some of the love he was giving her back. To show that she didn’t only care about her own wellbeing, but also about his.

“In Winterfell all eyes will be constantly on our children. They will be watched and judged and everything they will do will be causing gossip and earn them a reputation they might never recover from.” She remembered all too well how so many people had seen her as nothing but pretty, as a delusional girl dreaming of finding love in a world that had no love to give. “But here they could be free to be themselves, to try things and to fail, to run around and discover a part of this world that so many people don’t care about.”

A smile spread across Jon’s face. “I’m sure the Night’s Watch would welcome us with wide open arms.” His hand reached for hers and he entwined their bluish fingers. “You’re freezing. I should actually get you back inside.”

“It’s okay, Jon.” Sansa had missed saying his name and she grabbed as many chances as possible to let it roll off of her tongue. “I have been through worse and I can spend enough time warm and comfortable already, but I can’t spend that much time with you, away from the crowd and prying eyes.”

“That’s not really why we’re here, actually.” Jon licked his lips and he started walking again. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy walking with you and just talking.” He squeezed her hand and Sansa felt the butterflies in her stomach eagerly respond. “But I actually wanted to show you something.” He cocked his head. “Or someone.”

Sansa bit her bottom lip and even though she was getting cold and her teeth were almost clattering she straightened her back a little. “Now you’ve got me curious, Jon Snow.” She wrapped her free hand around his upper arm and even though it was nothing but a small touch it was satisfying enough for now. “Can you already tell me who it is?”

Jon shook his head. “It’s a surprise.” He grinned. “And I’ve already given you too much information. Giving any more would truly spoil it.”

“I assume it’s a nice surprise?” Sansa locked her glance with Jon’s and Jon pressed the palms of his hands to her cold cheeks while he stood still once more.

“I thought you trusted me.” His nose brushed hers and then he kissed her forehead. “We’ve had more than enough bad surprises to last an entire lifetime.” The smile on his face faltered for a short moment. “From now on there will only be nice surprises.” He grabbed her hand again and started to walk a little faster. “I promise you’re gonna love this one.”

Her forehead and cheeks were still glowing and Sansa felt her heart beating excitingly in her chest.

Becoming the Queen in the North had been more than just a dream coming true and she wouldn’t have wanted to be anyone or anything else, but it was nice to know that the girl she had been, long before she had known how cruel the world could be, was not crushed or killed completely.


End file.
